


The Riddlermobile

by iammemyself



Series: Arkhamverse [12]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Other, Programmer Dad, Riddlerbots - Freeform, That's all I got
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10592415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iammemyself/pseuds/iammemyself
Summary: It exists, it works, and it’s better than the original ever was… but it’s in the shop.





	

‘The Riddlermobile’

By Indiana

 

 

**Characters: Edward Nygma, Alan (Riddlerbot OC)**

**Synopsis: It exists, it works, and it’s better than the original ever was… but it’s in the shop.**

 

 

 

“Well, son,” his dad said, “it’s been an entire two months but we’ve finally finished it.”

Alan stepped back with his dad, a good four feet from the car itself, and looked it over with him.  He wasn’t entirely sure about the paint job, which his dad had taken care of on some occasion Alan had not been around for, but for the most part it really was pretty cool.

 _What is it for?_ Alan asked, because he wasn’t sure on that point either.  His dad _did_ drive now and again, to locations Alan sometimes accompanied him to, but in a more… nondescript vehicle, to put it nicely.  This car did not even look like it would fit in one lane on the road.

“It has a pair of purposes.”  His dad walked alongside the car now, trailing the fingertips of one hand on the outside.  “For one, the tasks I am completing for Jonathan have to do with a man who owns a vehicle just like this.  Said vehicle is an annoyance to everyone in this city trying to get a job done.  The Bat will be forced to take that cumbersome machine of his through a series of puzzles that force him to think faster than he is able, and within them we shall be soundly rid of both.  Jonathan will be disappointed, but that is how these things go.

“Secondly, the man who owns the original version of this car was able to construct it because he has a great deal of money.  I _also_ have a great deal of money, but I must spread it among a great many different projects.  Therefore – though I obviously _could_ do it the way _he_ did if I truly wanted to – I decided to build it myself, for a much lower price but materials the quality of which… may differ.”

 _So it was kind of just to prove you could_ , Alan said.  His dad frowned in consideration.

“Yes, you could say that.  And there’s nothing wrong with that approach!”

 _I wasn’t saying there was!_   His dad had been in such a good mood lately and here Alan was, ruining it again.

“I know that.”  His dad leaned up against the car now, folding his arms together and tapping a finger against one of them.  “You know how to drive, don’t you, Alan?”

 _I think so_ , Alan said.  _I wouldn’t know until I actually had cause to do it._   His dad nodded approvingly.

“Excellent.  How would you like to run it through a few trials for me?”

 _Me?_  

His dad nodded again.  “I’d do it myself, but it is extremely difficult to oversee this sort of thing while driving.  I think you’ll do perfectly.”

 _Really?_ He didn’t know why his dad was so complimentary all of a sudden, and it made him a little uncomfortable. 

“Alan,” his dad said, “I know that if you could have chosen who was going to build you, it would not have been me.  I know you think that I don’t pay attention to what you do.  I know that you believe me to value almost everyone else I talk to more than I do you.  I know a great deal of things that you think I do _not_ know.  Yes, I would like you to assist me with some trials I am finishing off by driving the car, and yes, I believe you are perfectly suited to do so.  You are diligent, efficient, and your work is flawless.  Yes, I noticed.”

 _Why… why would you think I wouldn’t have chosen you?_ Alan asked, as that was the only part of that little speech he was able to focus on just then.  His dad laughed shortly.

“Of course that was the only part of that to concern you.  I’ve talked to you before about how I was trying to break a cycle, and to be better than my own father was.  To be blunt: I’m not.”

_Dad –_

His dad put one hand up.  “I’m not finished.”

Alan grasped one of his thumbs and waited.

“I am just as bad, in my own way,” his dad continued, “Now, you are already aware that Jonathan and I are leaving after this mission is complete, to retire elsewhere and perhaps stir up trouble in some place where it doesn’t require so much hassle.  You are not expected to come with me.  When this is over, you may do as you wish and you never have to hear from me again.”   

That sounded _terrible_.

“But that is the future, and this is now.”  His dad readjusted his glasses.  “That decision can be made when it is prudent to do so.  Will you test the car for me, Alan?”

 _Yes_ , Alan said firmly, and his dad nodded and opened the door –which was for some reason on _top_ of the car – so Alan could climb into it.  His dad sat himself inside and closed the door.

His dad then gave him a quick rundown of the car’s capabilities – it had a grappling hook, and weapons, and sonar for some reason - but his dad said the most important thing to know was if it handled properly.  “Because of the material I was forced to use,” his dad told him, “I believe it to be heavier than the original.  If this car makes it through the courses as I predict it will, I’ll be able to refine them as required.”

So the car this one was based on was lighter, and therefore handled better, and that meant the courses would be made more difficult.  Alan had the passing thought that he would have liked them to be difficult.  It was a little odd, seeing as he hadn’t even _done_ one yet, but it wasn’t as though he’d ever done anything that really _was_ hard before.  Other than taking care of his dad, that was.  His dad made that _very_ hard sometimes.

“The first thing we need to do is ensure this one anchor point is secure enough to support a vehicle of near equivalent mass,” his dad said, once he’d directed Alan to a rotating pit puzzle which required the car to dangle against the wall there.  He climbed out of the car and pointed towards the point in question.  “Fire the hook here and back the car into the pit.  Slowly.”

So Alan did that, and it was very interesting, hanging against the wall like that – he thought perhaps that was what being weightless might be like – but he was also glad when his dad told him to bring the car back up.  “Excellent,” his dad said, when he got back in.  “It worked beautifully.  Now the other tests may begin.”

After that his dad told him to go back around to some of the places they’d been working on over the last few months, and Alan discovered they were sort of like obstacle courses to be gone through by car!  His dad would get out and sit on the ground at the start of the course with his laptop, and Alan would go through them three times.  Each lap got a little harder, but not enough so that Alan really felt challenged.  He was actually having a lot of fun and was a little disappointed when his dad said, “Just one more and then we’re done.”

 _Okay_ , Alan said, and he must have been too quiet or something because his dad asked,

“What?”

_I… this was really fun, that’s all._

“It isn’t _supposed_ to be,” his dad said gruffly.

Oh.  Now his dad was wondering if he’d made the courses too entertaining for whoever they were _really_ for.  When Alan arrived at the last one he said, _I’ve never really had fun before._

His dad opened his mouth for a minute but didn’t say anything.  He instead ran one set of fingers back and forth along the back of his laptop.

 _I mean, I don’t really have to think about how to do stuff_ , Alan said, in an attempt to make things better.  _These have been things I have to figure out on the fly.  I don’t know, it’s just… I like it_.

“Ah,” his dad said, reaching up to open the door.  “I can understand that.”

When his dad had sat himself down against the wall by the start of the course Alan lined the car up there and waited for his dad to tell him to start.  He was a little sad that this was the last one, but he couldn’t wait to do it anyway.

This last one was a little harder than the others, though not by very much; what was _actually_ harder was steering the car.  He didn’t really understand why it had suddenly become so difficult to turn the wheel, but he could see it becoming a problem if it didn’t go back to how it had been.  He was clearing the barriers by a much narrower margin than before because of this, and to his frustration he was unable to turn the wheel enough to pass the next one properly and he was not entirely sure what happened after that, but somehow the car caught the barrier and spun off backwards into the pit of water he was supposed to guide the car over next.  He decided it was time to get out when he saw that the front end had been ripped clean off and was on fire, and he clambered out to stand on top of it.  He was unsure whether or not the water in the pit would damage him, but he didn’t want to find out right now. 

His dad, however, jumped right into the pit after running up to the car, and he just stood there knee-deep in the water with his hands tangled into the hair behind his head.  The piece of the barrier Alan had hit had broken off as well and fallen into the pit, and it sat there sparking half-heartedly.  His dad was just standing there, staring at the car with his mouth open a little, and Alan didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t jump in there himself to help get the car out, even if he _had_ been strong enough, and he had never seen his dad do this so he didn’t know if that was even what his dad wanted.  Finally, he just said, _Dad?_ and almost immediately his dad turned to him with his fists tight to his sides.

“ _You ruined it!_ ” his dad shouted, and Alan took a step back.  He would have stepped back further, except that he was out of space to do so.  “ _Look what you’ve done, you destroyed it!_ ”

_I –_

“I spent _months_ on this!” his dad continued, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.  “ _One_ job, I give you _one_ important job and you went and _did this_?  You want me to give you _more_ responsibility and _more_ trust after you fail to complete even _this_ simple task?  Are you out of your _mind_?  You’re useless!  I should have just done it myself, because _obviously_ you can’t handle something that requires so little skill and coordination.  I don’t know why I believed you could.  You never do _anything_ right.”

Alan was very scared now, because he didn’t understand any of what his dad was saying.  It wasn’t only the words themselves, which were very hurtful, but the fact that they _weren’t true_.  His dad had _never_ said anything like this to him before!  And his dad knew that Alan tried his best, didn’t he, didn’t his dad _know_ Alan hadn’t meant to crash the car?    

_Dad –_

“Shut up,” his dad interrupted with a lot more harshness than Alan had ever heard from him before, and he raised one of his hands again but Alan didn’t know what he meant to do with it because he froze suddenly, and looked more upset than angry.  Alan had been told not to talk so he didn’t know how he was going to figure out what that meant, and he was only confused further when his dad abruptly climbed out of the pit and walked away, pressing one hand very hard to his eyes beneath his glasses.  Alan watched his dad walk away, and he wanted to follow him very badly, but instead he just sat down on the car and stared at the smoke still coming out of the engine, the fire having been doused by the water in the pit. 

What had he done wrong?

Nothing.  He couldn’t think of _anything._ He _had_ crashed the car, and he could understand his dad being angry about that.  The car _had_ taken a long time to build, and so had this obstacle course.  His dad was organic and it took him longer to do things and required a lot more effort than if Alan were to do them.  Looking at the front end of the car, it seemed to _him_ it wouldn’t take that long to fix, but to his dad… maybe it looked like it would take a really long time.  It reminded him that the barrier was broken, and he looked over at it.  If he could have reached it he would have pulled it out and reattached it.  It was too far, however, so it was going to have to wait.

His dad must have been really angry to have said all those things.  He couldn’t have meant them, though, could he?  It had been almost like listening to another person entirely.  The thought came to him that maybe that was one of those aspects of his dad he simply didn’t know about yet, and that scared him.  That person wasn’t his dad.  That was someone else.  His dad always tried, at least, to do what was right by Alan, but that other person… he didn’t care about Alan at all.  He really wanted to go to his dad now, to get him to explain all of this.  Maybe his dad was angry because Alan hadn’t apologised.  He hadn’t had a _chance_ to, though!  He _would_ have if his dad hadn’t started shouting!

He was sad and confused and just… really wanted his dad.  He wanted to go find his dad, and for his dad to give him a hug and explain why he’d said all of that, but he didn’t know if he would, or if he would just start yelling again.  Ada had said once he was scary when he yelled, and he was.  But Alan still wanted to try and fix this anyway.

 He would go and play with Ada for a while, and see if he could think this through in the meantime, and then he would go and find his dad and sort this out.  But he would give them both time to think and calm down first.

 

* * *

 

He finally, finally found his dad in the basement, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt so _relieved_ before.  His dad was sitting in a dark corner, smoking, and all the walls and equipment around him were covered in a sequence of numbers set down in that green paint he had so much of.  His laptop seemed to have been thrown on the floor any which way.  He looked up when he saw Alan and shook his head slowly.

“Go.”

_I’ve been looking for you for hours._

“And that was stupid.  If I had wanted you to know where I was, I would have told you.”

_I just… you left before I could tell you I was sorry._

“Shut _up_!” his dad snapped, hand clenching, and Alan found himself shrinking a little.  “God, Alan.  Would it kill you to get some self-respect?”

Alan had nothing to say to that.

“I’m not letting you do it,” his dad muttered, throwing the end of his cigarette into the darkness and lighting another one.  “Go.”

 _But why?_ Alan asked in confusion.  Was his dad okay with the apology or not?

“Do you understand what just happened, Alan?”

 _I crashed the car and you got mad._   It seemed pretty reasonable, actually.

“No.”  His dad took a long inhalation of the cigarette.  “The car _broke_ and then I yelled at you for it.  And I would have hit you, too, if doing so would not have shattered my entire hand.”

That seemed to be going a little too far, but it was okay.  He hadn’t actually _done_ it.

“I am unfit,” his dad said bitterly, “to have anything to do with you.  I told you that I wanted to break the cycle, and as it turns out I have instead perpetuated it.  I have become worse than my father ever was, because I know better and still I do it anyway.”

_I don’t think –_

“It’s not going to end, Alan,” his dad interrupted.  “You think it will.  You think that it will be just the one time, where I yell at you for something that isn’t your fault, but it won’t be.  I will do it again, and again, and eventually I will do something worse, and you’ll tell yourself, ‘He didn’t mean it.  It was a mistake.’  And maybe it was, and maybe it will be again the next time, and the next time, and you’ll eventually have to look back and wonder if it ever _was_ a mistake or merely some new habit you didn’t want to admit to yourself.  Because you won’t want to.  You’ll want to believe I am what you think I am, what you want me to _be_ , but I’m not.  I know how it ends.  I am _telling_ you how it ends.  And you should leave before we get there.”  The second cigarette finished, he dropped the end of it somewhere to his left.  “I’ll admit it.  I failed.  I did the one thing I never wanted to do.  History repeats itself, the future does not change, and neither do I.”

_What do you mean, it wasn’t my fault?_

His dad looked incredulous, now.  “ _That_ was all you took from that?”

 _It’s the part that stands out to me._   He was aware it was some sort of background logical process he went through when analysing these things, but he wasn’t quite sure how to explain it.  His dad shook his head and pulled back one of his legs, resting an arm on his bent knee.

“You didn’t cause the crash.  I did.”

_You weren’t even there._

“I let you drive a car with a second-hand steering fluid line.  It was stupid and irresponsible.  I should have realised the steering was off because all the fluid had leaked out of the line, and not because you were fooling around, but instead of looking at the diagnostic like I should have I yelled at you.”

Alan had to sit down to think this over.  His dad was saying it was his fault there had been a crash, because they had put a used line in the car and… that had caused the accident.

But that was all it was, then, an accident.  _No one_ had caused it.  Alan hadn’t crashed the car, and his dad certainly hadn’t. 

 _If it wasn’t my fault then why did you yell at me?_   He said it as neutrally as he could; he wasn’t trying to be accusatory, but _that_ didn’t make any sense either.

His dad brought up the other leg now and laid his arms across both knees.  “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Alan didn’t like that answer.  It explained why, but his dad had said ‘I don’t know’, which Alan hated hearing.

“Alan, I was afraid,” his dad said, very quietly.  “I thought… that my negligence had killed you.  And in those moments between when I thought you were gone and when I was processing that you were not, I had to think about a tomorrow where you did not exist, and it…”  He clenched his hands together.  “I had never thought about it before.”

 _Did your dad ever talk to you?_ Alan asked.  He thought he knew a way to sort this out, though he was a little frustrated that he had to guess a lot of things.  Talking about anything happening in his history made his dad upset, but at least if he’d done it Alan would _know_ and _understand._   His dad shook his head.

“He wasn’t exactly conversational when he wasn’t being paid to be.”

_So the first time he yelled at you, he didn’t have anything to say about it._

“No, he pretty much covered that during the shouting.”

_But you didn’t._

His dad leaned forward.  “What are you trying to say?”  He didn’t sound angry, just… curious.

_Well… maybe you yelled at me, and maybe you wanted to hit me, but I mean… you admitted it wasn’t my fault.  You just told me you were scared and frustrated._

“Because you came down here and made me.”

Alan laughed and shook his head.  _No I didn’t.  I asked, but you were very willing to tell me.  I didn’t exactly have to drag it out of you.  I had to chase you down, I guess, but I didn’t really mind._

His dad pushed his hair back along his scalp, displacing the goggles.  He pulled them off and wound the strap between his fingers.  “You may have a point.”

Alan moved across the floor and settled into the wall next to his dad.  _That’s all I keep asking.  That’s all I really want.  I just want you to talk to me._

“When this mission is over, Jonathan and I are retiring to another country,” his dad said.  “You aren’t expected to come with us.  I would advise you stay here and figure out what you want to do with your life.  I will tell you that I have no idea what you would do, but you’re smart.  You’ll know.”

_Do you want me to come?_

His dad pressed the lenses of the goggles together.  “In all honesty, Alan, I did not mean to build you this way.  I got overzealous with the AI.  I don’t have a plan as to what to do with you after this is over.  You weren’t supposed to be like this.  So I will say that yes, I would like you to… but there is going to be nothing for you where we’re going.  I didn’t mean for you to exist the way you do.  I am… grateful for it, but…”  He took a long breath.  “Your purpose is very specific and cannot really be carried forward.  You are not a child in a conventional sense, but you are my son.  I honestly am at odds as to how you or I should proceed.”

 _I would like to come with you_ , Alan said carefully.  _I’m sure you will have things to do I can help you with._

He stiffened a little when his dad put one arm behind his shoulders, uneasy at this thing he had never done before; he couldn’t really feel all that much of it other than the pressure, but he decided he liked it. 

“Then I will think of something when we get there,” his dad said.

_Will Jonathan want me there?_

“No.  But don’t worry about him.  He’s just annoyed that he has no advantage over you.”

Alan leaned forward to look at him.  He was still winding the strap of the goggles in the fingers of his free hand.  _What does that mean?_

“Jonathan is a psychologist,” his dad explained.  “He has great skill in looking at a person and knowing them based on the most intricate of nuances in their behaviour.  However, these nuances are always sub- or unconscious, that is, the person performing them does not know about them and cannot hide them without leaving telling clues.  But you have no such tics.  All of your behaviours are carried out in a logical fashion.  You can reveal nothing that isn’t already obvious.”

Alan wondered if it would be okay if he were to lean his head on his dad’s shoulder.  He’d seen Ada do it and he didn’t mind it from her, but of course Ada was Ada.  Alan was also a little bigger, and his dad was so fragile…

But his dad just moved his arm so that it was more around than on top of him.

 _That sounds useful_ , Alan said, and his dad laughed.

“I am to sic you on Jonathan when the going gets rough, is that what you’re saying?  He will be _extremely_ displeased, that I can tell you.  Will I care?  Probably not.”

_You act different around him._

“For now.”  He wrapped the goggles around his knee.  “I know you dislike what you perceive is an imbalance of power between us, but it’s not always like that.  Right now it is, because he comes to me when he needs a break from people fighting and questioning him at every turn.  We will have our fair share of power struggles in the future, don’t you doubt it.”

That didn’t make any more sense to Alan – was he saying he usually _fought_ with Jonathan, as opposed to what Alan had seen? but what kind of relationship was _that_? – but he decided not to get into it.  He thought that this was something he might never understand.

Abruptly his dad let him go and stood up, stretching, and as he did so his back made those noises they did now and again at these times.  Alan was always a little worried about that, but his dad just sighed a little and picked the goggles up from where they’d fallen on the floor.

“I have to get the car out.  I don’t think I’m going to be able to fix it anytime soon, but I can’t leave it there.”

Abruptly his dad started coughing, not just a little but enough that he had to put a hand against the wall to steady himself, and as always when his dad had trouble breathing Alan got a little scared.  His dad was pressing a handkerchief to his mouth and the coughing was still shaking his whole body, and Alan wished he knew why his dad kept up a habit that so obviously hurt him.  When his dad stood straight again he looked tired, and his hand was shaking a little as he folded up the cloth and pocketed it.

 _Dad_ –

“I know,” his dad said, his voice getting caught up in a throat he had to clear before continuing.  “I need to stop smoking.  I just have more important things to do right now.”

Alan didn’t agree with him – as far as he understood it, breathing was one of _the_ most important things his dad needed to do – but he knew better than to argue.  _I’ll get you some water and meet you back at the other car, okay_?

His dad smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder.  “That’s very thoughtful, thank you.”

They walked to the stairs in silence, though when they reached them his dad said, somewhat hesitantly,

“Alan, I’m… I’m sorry I yelled at you.  I… it was wrong.  Everything I said… I didn’t mean any of it.”

 _It wasn’t your fault,_ Alan said, putting a hand on his arm.  _It was just an accident._

“Yes, well,” his dad muttered, putting his hands into his pockets, “it was nearly an unacceptable, grievous accident.  I can do without any more of those.”

He left his dad to wait on the porch of the Orphanage while Alan got him a bottle of water, which he drank about half of.  To Alan’s knowledge that meant he’d been thirsty to begin with, which was bad, and he really hoped his dad did live differently when he wasn’t working for Jonathan because the more of these things he noticed, the more worried he got.  They made their way behind the Orphanage where his dad kept his other car and drove to the puzzle in silence.  His dad didn’t ask if he wanted to drive this time, and he would have said no if he _had_ been asked. 

As the service elevator ground its way down into the property Alan asked, _Why did you say you never changed?_

“My God, you remember everything, don’t you?”  He drove out of the elevator and as close as he could to the wreck, though he did not get out when he put the car into park.  Alan noted he was staring off in the general direction of the accident, hands tight on the steering wheel.  Finally, he said, “I suppose I should have worded it differently.  It is impossible _not_ to change, obviously, but I… continually become worse.”  He drummed his thumbs on the wheel.  “It is an addiction of a sort, this game.  And it continues to grow and wax more elaborate almost on its own, and… it is the only thing that excites me anymore.  When it does, that is.  Of course, addictions eventually destroy the user, and I have not been totally blind to my own…”  He sighed and pushed open the door.  “Never mind.  Let’s deal with this.”

The entire front end of the car in the pit was a mangled mess, part of it ripped off by the barrier Alan had collided with and the rest somewhat melted from the electrical fire.  He felt guilty just looking at it, but reminded himself it had been an accident.  It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t his dad’s fault.

His dad jumped down into the pit and walked around to the underside of the car, where the winch mechanism was, and inspected it.  By the time Alan joined him by standing on the car again, he had already stepped back.

“I believe it still works.  I’ll have to force it manually, but as long as I can pull out the cable we’ll get it out soon enough.”

Alan helped his dad pull out a good length of the cable, which Alan then climbed out of the pit with and attached to the sturdiest thing within reach.  When he returned to the car Alan said, _Can I just say one more thing, and then I’ll drop all of this?_

His dad wiped a grease-coated hand on the side of his pants, then slid his glove back on.  “All right.”

 _I don’t think you’re like your dad.  Maybe a little.  I don’t know if it’s possible to_ not _be like your dad.  But if you really wanted to make sure you were better one day, I know you could.  I know you can change yourself to be anything you want to be.  You just haven’t wanted it enough yet._

His dad stared down at the car in front of him, one of his fingers tracing a set of green lines along the hull distractedly.  Finally he said, “You know, there was… one thing my father never did.  And the more I think about it, the more I believe I… should have done it after the accident, instead of what I _did_ do.”

_What’s that?_

He turned to face Alan, and he looked very disturbed and Alan did not know why.  Whatever he should have done couldn’t have been _that_ bad, could it?  He was so distracted with trying to figure out what such a thing could be that he was startled when his dad stepped forward and hugged him and said, quietly, “I’m glad you’re all right, son.”

And maybe Alan held on a little too hard when he returned the hug, but it was just this once.  If his dad really cared he would have pushed him off, anyway.  When he did let go, his dad put a hand on his shoulder for a moment before he turned back to crouching in front of the winch.

 _You’ll be all right one day too,_ Alan said.  His dad turned enough to look behind him.

“When I want it enough?”

 _Probably_.  He shrugged.  Sometimes those things snuck up on you when you weren’t paying attention.

And his dad shook his head to that, but he was smiling.  

 

* * *

 

**Author’s note:**

**So originally of course Edward was all ‘omg I almost lost you!!!!’ y’know, stereotypical worried parent shit but then I remembered this one time I was in an accident.  I was driving on the highway behind my mom, who was driving a different vehicle, and I slipped on some blowing snow and drove the vehicle into the ditch.  It was all full of snow so there was no damage done but what happened next was my mom ran down the highway, pulled open the door, and yelled, ‘Why did you put on the brakes?’.  She then continued to berate me for the next several hours while we waited for a tow truck to get the vehicle out.  So that’s why I changed it to Edward getting mad, because that happens.**

**Alan does not understand the concept of death, which is why the accident doesn’t really faze him and Edward’s reactions don’t make sense to him.  He has never so much as been injured, and so any concept of bodily harm is foreign and for his purposes, nonexistent.  So he doesn’t react to Edward talking about a tomorrow without him because Alan literally at this point in time can’t conceive of being dead.  None of the Riddlerbots understand mortality, and to that effect they are all fearless about their own existences.**

**The way Alan feels things is a bit different from the way a person would: he has a virtual neural network, but it is nowhere near as extensive as a human’s would be.  Humans feel things based on millions of nerve endings that send all sorts of signals back to the brain about what is being touched at any given moment; Alan then has virtual nerve endings, but not in the millions.  More in the hundreds.  He can conceive of pressure and temperature – pressure is returned to him as a number in Newtons, and temperature is only returned to him when it is above or below a number that would damage him if he were exposed to it for any length of time – but not texture.  Ada’s virtual neural network is better than Alan’s, but there’s only so much processing power that can be crammed into such a limited space and so it still is incomparable to one in reality.  Nikola can only feel pressure when it is beyond his lifting capabilities.**

**I’m sure nobody really cared about how a robot can feel someone’s arm on them even if they don’t have skin, and you would have just accepted the Riddlerbots as being just shy of human bc sure why not, but I do have reasoning for how this works.**


End file.
